Who can fathom the intimacy of prayer?
Your eyes never leave me.
Your Heart is ever open to my sighs.
You wait, watching to catch my eye.
You watch, waiting for a return of love ,
And suffer my distraction.
You listen for my footsteps.
You long to hear my voice,
And Your Heart leaps,
When I whisper Your Name.
Who can penetrate
The devotion of Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
To this poor work of Your Hand,
Waiting, waiting, waiting,
For the final touches of Your Love?
©2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
O Man, believe
That the Virgin did conceive
Her God and mine
And happily thine.©2013 Joann Nelander
A million miracles ride the deep,
And play beneath the surface
Of Your fury,
In fall of water,
Rounding o’er the rocks,
In rush and billows,
Froth and foam.
Swift river carry me
And write on my memory.
Though seated on the bank,
I sail in heart,
And hurry,
In your wake
Finding joy as a petal,
Skirting the obscured,
Dancing o’er temptation,
In an act of will,
To follow in Your stride,
O Master of the deep.
The glint of sun
In steady flash
To gild rocky edges
As You do my soul.
The wash of swift current,
Pouring joy as palpable
As bird song,
Swimming the swollen crowns,
Like ribbons of life,
Skimming hidden cliffs,
Caring and carrying me along.
Their path and destiny one,
In faith’s repose.
Let not the world
Still or interfere
To make me tarry,
When You bid me come,
Contemplate my end,
And sweet beginning.
One with Providence’s
Plan,
I fear not Thy wild ride.
A million miracles cry out to me
From the beauty
Of depth and mystery.
I am lost in Your Presence.
There You are
Smiling back at me.
I simply smile and gaze.
I am nothing and no one,
Yet You whisper,
In You and Yours,
I am more.
You sing to my soul,
And tell me beauty tales.
Of gaining all I leave behind
In Love’s pursuit.
Grace creates a place for me.
After the mind of God.
I surpass the wonders I behold.
Hold me in this instant,
To capture Paradise
For the journey onward,
Singularly one with everything,
And bound to all,
And none,
Save You.
©2013 Joann Nelander
I find You sweet within me.
Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
You looked down
From Your Cross
To behold faithfulness.
There stood Your Mother.
You beheld her look of grief,
Her suffering Your pain.
You wed it
To Your Own,
Presenting all
Before Our Father’s holy throne.
© 2013 Joann Nelander
On October 17, Hungary closed its border with Croatia, blocking thousands of refugees still traveling from Mediterranean landing points to central and northern European countries. An estimated 58,000 migrants have arrived in Slovenia over the last week alone.
Source: Thousands of Migrants Are Crossing the Balkans on Foot
The Father of modern genetics, Dr. Jerome Lejeune, was dismayed when his work was being used to end lives in utero because chromosome 21 indicated Downs Syndrome. He worked to protect and improve the live of the weakest among us.
http://lejeuneusa.org/advocacy/21-thoughts-dr-j%C3%A9r%C3%B4me-lejeune#.VilDMF2BxwU.email
Centering Prayer’s Misunderstanding of ContemplationOctober 24, 2015 by Connie Rossini Filed under Books, Centering Prayer, Connie Rossini, FEATURED, New Age, Prayer 18 3 1 3 Centering Prayer’s Misunderstanding of ContemplationThe following is an excerpt from Connie’s new bookIs Centering Prayer Catholic? Fr. Thomas Keating Meets Teresa of Ávila and the CDF.This excerpt comprises Chapter Five: The Nature of Contemplation. DetailThomasKeatingDiscussionWithTheDalaiLamaBoston2012Fr. Keating writes, “Contemplation is a fundamental constituent of human nature and hence available to every human being.”[1] This is a serious error. It makes contemplation into a merely human action, like thinking or loving. Fr. Keating says that Christian contemplation and Buddhist meditation “are basically the same thing,” and both employ many methods.[2] He also says, “Contemplation… is not so much a gift as a given.”[3] Contrast this with the Catechism: “Contemplative prayer is the simplest expression of the mystery of prayer. It is a gift, a grace; it can be accepted only in humility and poverty.”[4]What does this mean more concretely? If contemplation is a gift, as the Catechism says, then God gives it as he wills and to whom he wills. Contemplation is really a deeper entering into the life of God through intimacy with Christ. It is not an altered state of consciousness. It cannot be achieved by human endeavor. Although God wills to draw every person into this intimacy, that does not mean that everyone, wherever he may be in the spiritual life, has immediate access to it. Human nature is not enough to make one a contemplative. Even the sacramental grace given at Baptism is insufficient to make one a contemplative. Contemplation requires a special act of God. When the soul has done all it can with ordinary grace to draw near to God, God draws near to the soul. This is the orthodox view. Letter to the Bishops indicates that Fr. Keating’s mistake is a Gnostic one: In combating the errors of pseudognosticism the Fathers [of the early Church] affirmed that matter is created by God and as such is not evil. Moreover, they maintained that grace, which always has the Holy Spirit as its source is not a good proper to the soul, but must be sought from God as a gift.[5]
I see You through tears,
Cascading as a cleansing waterfall,
Washing away,
And carrying away,
The deeds and impurities
Of the Old Man.
Virginal flesh as gift,
Are my arraignment.
Looking in the mirror,
I see me with my eyes,
But in faith,
I see You.
The taint and stain of Sin,
The mocking of the Accuser,
Can not touch me.
Here in Your arms,
Under Your Mantle.
I find rest.
Tent with me.
Cover me.
Grace me,
And transform me,
As a land restored
And fertile .
Let me hear the roar
Of the cleansing waterfall.
Drown out
With a holy whisper,
The remembrance of Egypt,
And the shame of slavery.
My tears remind me
Of the interior bath,
And healing balm,
The gracious gift of Your work
By Your Presence,
And Your ministries.
River of Life,
I have eyes only for You.
You carry me,
And sweep along with me,
Making holy,
All those I hold dear.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Depravity now has its day,
The festering city
Erupts to spew abuse,
First on its children,
And then on those
Who come to its aid.
Perversity mocks virtue,
Opening it’s robes,
To welcome strangers for a night,
No home, no family, no love.
Let Sin not reign,
Call out again.
Seek liberty of spirit,
Spurn license,
And licentiousness.
Love the enemy
Within and without.
All men have sinned,
All suffer,
Abused and abuser.
Come, O Creator of Man.
Come holy plan.
Fight the battle
With heavenly hosts.
Build on these ruins,
A nation that is pure and just.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
You stretch before me
In wondrous expanses.
Where are your limits, O Lord?
Where the measure
That contains Your domain?
The ethereal sky,
Hugging the mountains,
Kissing earth,
And spilling love across its plains,
Proclaims a God of beauty.
Hidden,yet revealed,
In the minuscule and mighty,
You peer from clouds
That radiate streams of Your glory.
You walk the waters,
Stride across mountains,
Blow like desert sands,
Seamlessly knitting terrain,
Texture, color, and contour
In organic harmony,
To announce Your Presence.
A world of darkness
Awakens each morning,
From its chrysalis,
As hope and promise courts
The sons and daughters of Man.
Quarried, cut and polished,
A darkened crystal,
Receives Your Light.
The soul of Man,
Focuses Your splendor,
And by grace,
You shine out in creations’ purpose.
Your Just Sun, O Father,
Crosses the great divide,
To shine on a "no one",
And "no people"
To stretch before the angels
The measure of Your Mercy.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Light a fire in my lowly heart
That I may love Thee
More and more.
Accept my straw as kindling.
Ignite me as a sacrifice.
To be consumed.
Breathe on me in the furnace
Of your desires
For this child of Your creation.
Blaze to transform
By grace and Thy Holy Spirit,
My base metal into the finest gold.
Enflame my yearning heart
That love may burst forth,
Forevermore.
copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Here they are - courtesy of the Fed Reserve Bank of St Louis, the real facts of Failure
Hide me, hold me, help me,
Living rock of my being.
You, Truest Truth,
No mere symbol,
But Holy Being,
Are Ground of my being.
Creating with a Word, the Word,
You speak my name,
And, moment by moment,
Sustain my being.
Christ, my Rock,
May I forever be in Thee.
Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com
Hide me, hold me, help me,
Living rock of my being.
You, Truest Truth,
No mere symbol,
But Holy Being,
Are Ground of my being.
Creating with a Word, the Word,
You speak my name,
And, moment by moment,
Sustain my being.
Christ, my Rock,
May I forever be in Thee.
Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com
Everyday is good.
Everyday is holy.
All days are present
In Your Light.
With my life lived
Under Your gaze,
I implore of You
A river of love.
Pour the many waters
To wash the dross away,
Then You, Yourself,
Provide pure gold.
Through the heart
And hands of the Virgin,
Purify my gift each day
As I sigh to You.
All my ways,
The moments now arrayed
Gilded by Christ
Shine in holiness.
And, though my acts
Be as the poor trinkets of a child,
Your wearing of them,
In Our Father’s Presence,
Makes Him smile.
Look on me loving You
With every beat of my heart,
Skipping happily,
As a playmate at Your side,
Everyday.
©2013 Joann Nelander
Jesus, henceforth,
Live my life
In blessed union with me,
And accept my every breath and exertion,
As Your own witness to the Father.
Pour, through me, the graces,
That change the world,
In the power of the Holy Spirit,
So that I be a portal
In Creation’s web,
As gateway,
That Heaven may flow,
Entering Matter and Time,
As on Your Altar,
That I may say with Paul,
"I live, no longer I,
But Christ lives in me,"
To the glory of God, the Father,
God, the Son,
And God, the Holy Spirit.
Command angels fly to the aid
Of this fallen land,
As ever fresh Redemption,
Fighting Your battles in the air,
And announcing Truth,
To renew in You,
Those who You have not left orphans.
The lowly exalt You,
In the garden of Earth.
As we sing Your praise,
Turn up the volume of Your Word,
That even the deaf may hear.
Issue edicts of Love,
That, at Your command,
We be Holy,
As The Father is Holy,
And You are Holy.
Holy, holy, holy.
You dedicate Yourself, eternally,
To our sanctification,
That by Faith and "Fiat"
All creation blossom forth,
A New Heaven
And New Earth,
And Your reign recognized,
And the Lie undone,
Triumphantly in the Son.
© 2013 Joann Nelander
I am man,
Creation run a muck.
You have set me to name the animals
And govern as You, Yourself,
With angel hosts to help set the world aright
But only by Your Light.
And what have I done,
And do I do?
Taking hold of the universe
I twist it to my will,
Make laws against Your Laws
And ride wild chariots,
Only to drown in Passover’s sea.
Yet there is hope for me.
Return to claim Your own.
Invite all to Your throne.
Purge the night in fiery column.
Day-spring arise to water anew,
And lead by Mystery and cloud..
In shalom peace to You.
© 2013 Joann Nelander
Give me a heart
Desirous of Truth.
You, Who rent
In two the veil,
That hid Your Divinity
In the mystery
Of Flesh and Blood,
Incarnation for my salvation,
Open the Way
For me to enter in,
That loving You,
I may taste
The heavenly Bread,
And walk, henceforth,
A child, at home
In the Holy of Holies.
Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
The Crusades = Jihad? Nice try, but no dice. Maybe you saw or heard about that notorious National Prayer Breakfast speech in which Mr. Obama attempted to equate the Catholic Crusades with violent, murderous Muslim jihad (watch video specifically at 2:00 mark). Well, nothing could be further from the truth. He said, “And lest we …
Here I am Lord
I have brought the world and my day with me
What a motley crew arrayed before You
But not in vain.
We come with a clatter
My noise, our noise,
To the Silence.
The deafening roar
To the hallowed stillness.
Whisper in the chamber of our meeting
Where we tent with You,
Hope for the dying,
Faith to the listening,
Love to the willing.
You spoke
And matter came to be.
Beauty and wisdom
Reigned over form,
And substance served
Your Thought.
You ruled the spheres and firmament
To create both void and fullness.
Your creation dawned in darkness,
And You let there be light.
First and last and all in between
Found a place in Time.
You spoke forth Man
And, in my time, me.
You said,
"Be perfect
As I am perfect,"
And set free the human heart,
That it might know,
And love,
And serve Thee.
Yet will resisted service
And loved naught but itself.
"Tortuous and beyond remedy",
We hid from Thee.
In Time, You spoke, the Cure.
Announcing to the Virgin,
And by a Star
And angels herald,
Saving throughout creation,
Twisted hearts.
Jordan’s waters, purifying
By the Holy to make men holy,
Love made manifest
By descending Dove
Again You spoke,
"This is my Son."
Now, bowing will,
Longing in Your Christ,
Receive me as son to Thee,
Anoint with Healing Balm,
Redeeming accursed Fall,
That perfect I, too,
May, please Thee, be.
When You speak
Life comes to be.
Speak now, the Perfect,
That I may perfect be
And, at long last, love Thee.
©2013 Joann Nelander
He rides the Wind in power and right,
Born of Eternal Light.
All goodness follow in His train,
Like comet tails, falling stars,
That fire my night.
Here light upon my soul and nest,
As spirit bird, find place of rest,
Spreading feathered wing
As shelter, and friend,
To Godly bless.
Stirring, fan the embers of my love,
To blaze anew in fire from above
Transforming dust and dross,
To forge one who walks
Amongst the flame, O Holy Dove.
©2013 Joann Nelander
I say it so often,
"I am doing the best I can do."
My heart breaks,
For I desire to do all for You,
Yet, I am full of myself,
And You seem silent.
I am still of the earth
And aspire to heaven.
I am so common,
Yet You call me "Beloved",
And "Child of God".
My end draws near,
As it does for all men.
Many count their days endless,
And take no account.
What of my end?
Do I please You,
Who number my days,
And promise endless life?
Abandonment draws me
To Your Heart.
Do everything for me,
And in peace
I shall rest in You,
Endless Love of countless days,
Receive me.
Into Stillness 